Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Death and Taxis

Chapter 1

          Yesterday, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the news on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. Didi is the Chinese version of Uber. Sadly, some of the drivers have been raping and killing the female passengers. Therefore, the price for a ride has really gone down.

          I used to pay two dollars American for a lift to the subway station. Now I only get charged a buck. This tragedy has been good for my pocketbook. However, I truly hope that the government brings the culprits to justice. My wife and child use Didi all the time. Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t mind if a maniac murdered the Dragon Lady. In fact, that would be quite the blessing. But Rice-Boy Larry is precious cargo.

          I stepped into the shower. The hot water against my flabby flesh felt wonderful, so I decided to beat my meat. I thought about one of my favorite porno stars. Her name is Loni Punani. She’s an Asian with a huge set of tits. Loni takes it in the ass—which is a definite plus in my book. I blew my load in five minutes. The orgasm was quite explosive. I had a great time.

          I dried off with one of my wife’s tiny towels and walked downstairs. Then I called Ken the Chicken Man using WeChat.

          I said, “How’s your physics teacher? I never took class that in high school. The people in the guidance office thought I was too stupid for advanced science.”

          He said, “She’s a real pain in the ass.”

          “Your teacher is a woman?”


          “What’s wrong with her?”

          “Female shit. The other day she just started crying in front of the entire class.”


          “She lost both her children many years ago. One died from illness, and the other got killed in a car accident.”

          “Damn, son. Be good to her. She’s been through hell.”

          “I agree. But she shouldn’t bring all that sadness to her job. The formulas are tough enough without the spirit of death infecting the environment.”

          “Son, I want you to kiss her ass.”

          “I’m not going to kiss her ass. That’s not my job.”

          “It is your job. You just don’t know it yet. Let’s face it. You’re never going to use any of that science bullshit in real life. The actual lesson you must learn in this particular case is empathy. I want you to be her special little helper.”

          “Special little helper?”

          “That’s right. Wash her blackboard and give her a shoulder to cry on. Can you do that for me?”

          “I’ll try.”

          “Good boy. You’re a nice kid, Ken. A father couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

          I ate breakfast with Rice-Boy Larry. We had eggs, toast, and chicken. I dipped the bread in the orange yolk and washed it down with Coca-Cola. Talk about heaven. Sadly, I’m going to stick to oatmeal in the near future. I need to lose a little weight. My heft is starting to affect my knees. It’s getting hard to squat down to pick up spare change.

          I got to school at 7:30 a.m. We had a staff meeting. The boss wants us to concentrate on being prompt and prepared. I’m in full agreement. Too many people show up five or ten minutes late. In my opinion, tardiness is an act of passive aggression. Put on your big-boy pants and get to work on time.

          I’m teaching seniors this year. One of the books we’re reading is The Woman in Black by Susan Hill. I like it, but the children aren’t too thrilled with the tome. However, they're a bright crew, and I’m sure they’ll warm to the book eventually.

          I went home and watched Manchester United. The club beat a hapless Burnley squad by two goals. I don’t like soccer, yet I love the English Premier League. I often watch it for hours and hours in my spare time. Try to figure that one out.

           I went to bed at 10 p.m. I dreamt once again about smoking. I really miss my Marlboros.


  1. nobody reads this blog anymore

    instead everybody is hanging out over at
    which is where all the good bloggery is

    for example, the lesson plans for "The Woman in Black" by Susan Hill


    peace upon the highest